


Gambit

by misaffection



Category: Stargate SG1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:10:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misaffection/pseuds/misaffection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This... kind of just happened after reading the prompt. It's post-Continuum and I've no idea if it's going anywhere.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Gambit

**Author's Note:**

> This... kind of just happened after reading the prompt. It's post-Continuum and I've no idea if it's going anywhere.

  
**Fandom:** Stargate SG1  
 **Characters:** Baal, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson  
 **Written for:** [](http://phoenix-gate.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://phoenix-gate.dreamwidth.org/)**phoenix_gate**  
 **Prompt:** Ba'al, vodka martini  
 **Rating:** FRT  
 **Word Count:** 509  
 **Notes:** This... kind of just happened after reading the prompt. It's post-Continuum and I've no idea if it's going anywhere.

  
He pushes open the door and lets the chatter wash over him. The roadhouse isn’t busy, not yet, but there are enough customers to create a soft murmur of conversation. He has to weave through them to reach the bar, where he places his order: vodka martini, slice of lemon, no ice.

The corner booth is vacant. Fake leather squeaks as he sits down to wait. He knows the risks he’s taking – his appearance hasn’t been that changed by the year – but he’s curious. So much has changed. He wants to know how time has treated her.

A prickle of awareness dances down his spine. A moment later the door opens again and there she is. He pushes the fedora back a little, confident that between the small crowd and the shadows he’s hidden enough.

Except that the awareness goes both ways. She stills, her laughing expression fading as she looks away from her companion to glance around. His breath catches, but she shakes it off and the moment passes. He finds that he’s a little disappointed.

She sits by a window. Evening light floods through the glass and settles in her hair. It lights her face, flawless even after all this time. He’d think she were Goa’uld if he didn’t know better.

He watches her for an hour, or four martinis. Not that the alcohol registers. His physiology means it’s harder to get drunk, though not impossible. But he’s not brought enough cash to down the amount that requires. He rather regrets that moment of wisdom, because four martinis aren’t dulling the bittersweet pain in his chest.

The decision comes without his really thinking about it. He asks a waitress for a pen and paper. After so long, it’s hard to come up with something suitable. In the end, all he writes is a series of digits and then signs it with a swirl of curves before folding the paper in half. He orders a fifth martini, but not for him. It and the note are taken across.

She frowns, pleasantly surprised. Right up to the point where she opens the paper and sees what’s inside. Her companion gets louder, gets up. But she doesn’t move. She stares at the note in her hand, then flickers a glance around the room.

This time she sees him. Wide blue eyes stare, taking in his altered appearance. Then her lips twitch into a smile. Sam Carter picks up the glass, ignoring Jackson’s chagrin, and raises it just slightly in his direction. Baal grins and returns the motion with his own glass.

She downs it in one and then pockets the note while her companion is still causing enough of a fracas to awaken the dead. Baal has been, at least as far as SG1 knew. He’s taking a risk by outing himself, but he’s bored. And Sam has pocketed his phone number.

Rising from his seat, he saunters to the door, humming. Round one to him. Now all he has to do is figure out the rules of the game...


End file.
